It Came to Me in a Dream
by WildYennifer
Summary: Post-6x02. Elena moves on with her life and forgets everything about Damon and her... or does she? Will they find their way back to each other this time? Repost from my Tumblr.
1. Chapter 1

I wake up from the feeling of somebody's lips on mine.

The kiss is soft, a mere brush of lips, a hand caressing my hair lovingly. I hum in contentment and inhale deeply. I love these quiet mornings when everything is slow and peaceful and beautiful, when I don't need to brace myself for troubles the day is inevitably going to throw at me and can just enjoy it all instead – the sense of calm, the softness of the sheets and his loving touch.

I pull back slightly to look at him and meet his piercing blue gaze.

Damon.

I hold back a scream and my eyes fly open as I wake up for real. I blink a few times before I look around and recognize my dorm room. This is reality. I'm in my bed, alone, and Damon Salvatore is dead.

I never woke up next to him, I never kissed him, at least willingly, and I certainly never loved him. I would have never done any of those things.

Except I can still feel his lips on mine.

Crazy. I'm clearly going crazy. Near death experiences and the loss of your best friend can do that to you. I just need to get some sleep and I'll be fine.

I close my eyes, but sleep doesn't come until dawn.

* * *

><p>It's Saturday. A good day, because even though I love my classes, I could use a break, and the party we've been planning sounds really good. I even convinced Caroline to go there with me, and that wasn't easy. It's like she'd rather mourn Bonnie 'til the end of time than try to actually move on and have some fun.<p>

It's not that I don't miss Bonnie. I do, and it hurts that she's gone, but I know grief. If I choose to focus on it, it'll ruin me. It'll never stop. I've lost my parents, I've lost Jenna, I even lost Ric and Jeremy at some point. So I'd rather try to live than let Bonnie's death ruin me.

Or maybe Caroline misses Stefan. It seems like they were better friends than Stefan and I were a couple, and I'm strangely okay with that. But I can't blame him for leaving everything and starting over far, far away from here. Maybe Damon was a jerk and made his life miserable, but they were still brothers, and Stefan still loved him. I know all too well what he must be feeling.

Anyway, I'm relieved that I managed to get Caroline to be here. Maybe she'll see that it's possible to forget about everything and have some fun, if only for a day, and relax a bit.

The thing is, Caroline is acting weird today.

She looks awkward, uncomfortable, as if we just met and don't quite know how to be around each other yet. I even talk about the party that's about to start, but Caroline – Caroline, the party queen – doesn't seem excited at all.

"By the way, I had the weirdest dream," I tell her, if only to break the tension, and she throws a quick glance my way before looking away again.

"What was it?"

"I woke up with somebody else in my bed, feeling all happy, and then I realized it was Damon. Damon Salvatore. Can you imagine that?" I shake my head. "I woke up right away, but it just felt so weird," I chuckle, expecting her to join me.

To my dismay, Caroline doesn't even look appropriately appalled. She only attempts a rather unnatural half smile.

"Yeah, that's just crazy." And by the sound of it, she doesn't mean it at all.

I sigh and look at her intently. "Care, what's going on?"

"What do you mean?"

"Come on. This is not you. The Caroline I know wouldn't miss an opportunity to bash Damon, and yeah, I know he's dead, and it's disrespectful, but you've been strange the whole day, so I'm kind of worried here."

"Yeah, you're right, I'm sorry." Caroline smiles and pats my shoulder. "It's just, you've been so sad, and now you're all like, let's move on, and I guess it freaks me out a bit."

"Yeah, I know, Care. I can't be sad for the rest of my life. Neither can you." I look at her intently, and she nods.

"I know. Sorry. I just… I worry about you."

_Yes, I worry about you. Why do you have to hear me say it?_

I remember saying the words, but I don't remember who I was talking to.

"It's all right, Care. We're going to be fine." I give her a hug and she returns it. "Now, let's go. That party won't start without us." I wink, and she smiles, this time sincerely.

"Sure."

* * *

><p>The party is going well until I see Jeremy with a bottle of whiskey and a girl I'm pretty sure I don't know standing a lot closer to him than I, being his sister, would like to see.<p>

"Hey, Jer," I wave, and he makes some noncommittal gesture, as a way to say hello, I assume.

I maneuver between people to get closer to him and look at the girl.

"I'm sorry, I need to talk to my brother. Would you mind..?"

"Sure, no problem." She swims away, leaving me with Jeremy. He doesn't seem to even acknowledge it, so I grab the bottle from his hand, and he yells indignantly.

"Hey!"

"I don't think you should be drinking that stuff."

"I don't think you're my keeper," he snaps, and I back away a bit. I did expect him to be difficult, but now I'm not sure how ready I am to deal with it.

"Jer, I know you're still grieving, and I get it. It's hard to lose somebody you love."

"Tell me something I don't know," he grumbles, but it seems better than anger, so I continue.

"I cannot imagine how much losing Bonnie hurt you, but drinking yourself into oblivion is not going to make things better. Trust me, I know what you're going through."

Somehow, my attempt at being understanding infuriates him.

"You know what I'm going through? What the fuck do you know? You chose an easy out, and you don't give a fuck about _my_ problems, do you?"

I step back. "An easy out? What are you talking about, Jer? Of course, I still miss Bonnie, and I care about you, and I want to be a good sister to you, just tell me what I can do."

He looks away for a moment and takes his bottle back while I'm still too shocked to react.

"I don't think there's anything you can do, Elena. I'm sorry for what I said, but you can't help me. You least of all people."

It hurts so much because he's right. I haven't been a good sister to Jer, not when it counts. When he was going through a hard time after Mom and Dad died, I didn't find the right words to support him. When Jenna died, I was too focused on looking for Stefan. When I was supposed to protect him, I sent him away to Denver.

Somehow, I can't remember how he even agreed.

* * *

><p>When I go to sleep, the memory of my too-real dream comes back to hit me full force. It's disturbingly easy to imagine Damon next to me, his hand grazing mine lightly, stroking my fingers, listening to my breath hitch. It's so vivid that I don't remember at what moment it ends and the dream starts, but I suddenly see a hallway and a vending machine, and I recognize the motel we stayed in when we were in Denver.<p>

I remember going into the hallway because I needed to get some fresh air while Damon sat in an armchair, drinking whatever alcohol he found. I remember being annoyed that I had to go there with him of all people, snapping at him for making fun of my brother, waiting for that whole trip to be over.

But in the dream, I feel him behind me, looking at me, and every cell of my body is hyper aware of it. Before I know what I'm doing I'm in his arms, and my lips are on his, my hands pulling at his hair, his on my waist. We're falling, or maybe flying, and the next thing I know is that I'm pressed to something solid and his impatient lips are on my collarbone, on my breasts where the top reveals them, and I still need more, want more, so I pull his face to mine, kissing him deeply before we break the kiss to look each other in the eye – and I eliminate the distance between us once again. Our hands are everywhere, demanding, exploring, the kiss fueled by lust and hunger and something I don't have a name for, but I want to find out.

That's when I wake up, my breathing uneven, my feet tangled in the sheets and the taste of him still in my mouth.

I've never wanted Damon Salvatore, but right now, I crave him.

Which is a clear proof of my progressing insanity.

* * *

><p>Damon tending to my cheek with longing in his eyes, so close that I want to kiss him.<p>

Damon holding me and kissing my hair as I cry at Bonnie's funeral.

Damon cupping my face and promising we'll handle everything.

Throwing me on the bed and kissing me deeply, passionately, pinning my hands to the bed so I can't touch him, though I'm dying to do just that.

Holding my hands.

Shaking in my arms as I embrace him.

Promising that he will always choose me.

Helping me cook.

I don't tell anyone about the dreams. They're usually vague and distant anyway, slipping away the moment I wake up until they're nothing more than flashes.

It's probably better that way.

* * *

><p>It's raining outside.<p>

I love rain. It doesn't need to pretend it's happy. It won't stop just because people don't like it. It's like overwhelming never-ending grief.

We're friends, rain and I.

The phone rings, distracting me from watching the raindrops trail down my window. I look at the screen and pick up.

"Hi, Caroline."

"Elena, you're not going to believe it. Like, literally. Hold on, it's a long story, and I would've told you, but there was this thing, so I couldn't really tell you, and then-"

"Care."

"Yes. Sorry. Anyway, open up. We'll be at the door in a minute."

"We?" I ask, but she's already ended the call.

I sigh, wrap a blanket around my shoulders, because it's cozier that way, and go to open the door.

Five heartbeats. Two humans, three vampires.

I unlock the door and push it. It yields easily, revealing a beaming Caroline. Behind her, I see Jeremy and Stefan, and Jeremy's arm is wrapped around-

"Bonnie!" I run to her and give her a hug, and with Jeremy holding her, it's kind of funny, but I don't care. "You're here. You're back."

I hug Jeremy, too, because he's even happier than me, and I see tears in his eyes, though he's trying to be strong.

She's alive. I don't know how it happened, but I'm so happy to have my best friend back that I don't even have the energy to be mad at the others for keeping it from me.

And then I feel a hand touching my shoulder, a sense of calm washing over me, though I don't know why, and I feel the urge to lean into that touch.

Instead, I turn around to find Damon Salvatore looking at me.

"Elena…"

He stares at me in wonder, like he sees me for the first time, and I'm the single most amazing thing in his life. No one has ever looked at me like that. I inhale sharply and stare back at him before I remember – it's Damon. The man who ruined my life more times than I can remember. It doesn't matter that he died, it doesn't matter he came back to life – it didn't make him any less of a monster.

He takes a firm step towards me, his hands grasping my shoulders, and I recoil, pushing him away.

"What are you doing?"

He winces as his hands fall helplessly against his sides.

"Yeah. Didn't think so."

I frown when I notice Caroline, Bonnie, Jeremy and Stefan all staring at us, looking distinctly uncomfortable.

"What are you guys looking at?"

Caroline, Jeremy and Stefan exchange looks, and my vampire BFF clears her throat.

"Maybe we should all sit down."

I step aside and let them in, noticing the way Damon flinches when I move away from him just a bit. Bonnie squeezes my hand briefly, and I'm grateful, because I feel like I'll need her support to get through this conversation.

"Let's start with how you two are even here," I say, sitting down on the couch next to Bonnie. Jeremy never leaves her side, Stefan and Caroline get chairs, and Damon sits on the arm of the couch next to me, careful not to touch me.

"Basically, Enzo and Ric and, well, I have been trying to look for Bonnie and Damon, and then it turned out Bonnie's grandma put them into a time loop or something, but we didn't know if there was any hope yet, because, you know, magic is complicated, but eventually Enzo managed to find a witch who helped us."

"Yeah, somehow, we read the same spell at the same time and it let us out. But…" Bonnie sighs and looks at me guiltily. "The spell needed a source of energy, and Enzo says Ric insisted it should be him."

"Is Ric- Is he dead?"

"No," Caroline says quickly. "He's in a kind of magical coma. I guess he would've died if he wasn't, you know, a freaky super-vampire. But we don't know how to wake him up."

"We'll find a way," says Damon confidently, and I get a momentary urge to take his hand and comfort him. Maybe it's just a lingering effect of my dreams.

"Yes, we will," I say instead before I do something stupid. His hand twitches on his knee, as if he's read my mind, and I remember the incident in the hallway. The way Damon looked at me, like he _expected_ me to respond to his kiss, and my friends' uncomfortable gazes.

"Is there something else you're not telling me?" I look at him first, but he just sighs heavily, lips pressed together, so I turn to Caroline.

"Well, this is going to be a really weird conversation, Elena, but here goes…"

And then she tells me about Damon and me.

* * *

><p>The story is unbelievable to the point where I want to tell them all to stop being idiots and making fun of me. Except everything works so seamlessly that it can't be a lie.<p>

They have it all figured out, all these crazy, impossible things. I fell in love with Damon – _fell in love _withhim – while I was still with Stefan. We couldn't be together because I was sired to him. We spent the best summer of our lives together, happy and carefree, and had an overall bumpy ride but, apparently, we always found our way back to each other – and when Stefan, of all people, says that, it's rather hard not to believe him.

"If I loved him so much, why did I want to forget? Why did I go through with it?"

"I tried to convince you not to do it," says Care, squeezing my hand sympathetically. I look at Damon and he's avoiding my eyes, and though we sit right next to one another, he seems to make a point of not touching me at all. "But you said that you wouldn't survive without it. You said that if Damon came back, you'd just have Ric compel your memories back, but now…"

"But now Ric's not here," says Damon bitterly, still scrutinizing the opposite wall. "And your memories are gone."

"Maybe I can call Klaus? He can compel vampires, too," says Caroline hopefully, but Damon shakes his head.

"It won't work. Klaus doesn't know what Ric had to know to make his compulsion this thorough. Ric took away those memories… and he's the only one who can give them back."

Which means that my only chance to know the truth is lost. At least, for now.

"Well, maybe it's better that way," I say, and everyone stares at me as they start talking all at once, attacking me with _what-are-you-talking-about_, _no-you-don't-get-it_ and_ are-you-crazy_. Only Damon stays quiet, staring into the distance. "I'm not that person. I don't want my life to revolve around a man, and if you say that I grieved so much that I went crazy and started attacking people… Well, that's not a healthy kind of love. It's madness."

"No, Elena, trust me," says Caroline, the last person I'd expect to want me (back?) with Damon, gesturing wildly. "If you had your memories, if you knew what you, well, knew, you'd hate the idea of not remembering what you knew. Oh my God, it's so confusing," she pauses, inhaling deeply, which prompts me that she's preparing another speech, and I don't know if I can take it.

"Caroline, listen, it's just, it's too much. I can't deal with it. You all tell me I love Damon, but I don't remember it. I don't feel it." I turn to him, because it feels wrong to speak about him in the third person, no matter how bad he is (was?). "I'm sorry I'm not this girl you expected to see, one who was insanely in love with you, apparently, but I can't just say, fine, so be it, let's go play house. I can't just take you back."

He turns to me, and it hurts to look at him. "I'm not asking you to."

I nod. "Good. Then, if you guys don't mind, just… go. I need to process everything – that you came back, that we need to save Ric, that I… that I remember the last three years of my life all wrong. I'm happy to see you, I am, but I need time."

"Maybe a lot of time," adds Damon quietly, but I don't answer. He stands up, letting out another heavy sigh, and walks away. The others follow, but I don't look at them. I'm staring at the rainy window and trying not to think about the mess I'm in.

* * *

><p>After the crazy day, the shower feels like a blessing. At least, I'll have this. My own private piece of normal. I try to focus on the familiar routine of massaging shampoo into my hair, but the treacherous thoughts start swarming in my head the minute I relax.<p>

It can't be a lie. My friends wouldn't do that to me. Which means that in some impossible alternative reality I fell in love with Damon and then willingly forgot about that, and until we find a way to save Ric, I have no chance to remember. Selfish as it is, I can't stop thinking about it.

So how can I ever love him again? No matter how many times they tell me everything, I won't really _know_. I won't have experienced those things. I won't feel what I'm supposed to feel.

I belatedly notice that the water has turned cold, so I step out of the shower and wrap a towel around myself. Grabbing a brush, I walk into my room and stifle a scream.

Damon Salvatore is on my bed.

I tense immediately, because the last time I remember him doing that, he was drunk and snapped my brother's neck. I must have forgiven him, since we were together, but I can't help the instinctive fear spreading through me.

"What are you doing here?"

He stands up and walks up to me until we're inches apart. He would do it sometimes, and I hated it. He did it to make me nervous, and I loved disappointing him every time. At least, that's how I remember it.

But this time, somehow, the situation is working out in his favor, because I suddenly cannot breathe, and my heart is beating faster than it ever has since I turned.

I take a cautious step back, but he follows, and in a minute, I'm backed against a wall and he's looming over me, his lips too close to mine for comfort.

"Stay away from me," I say, trying to sound spiteful, though I'm pretty sure that's not how it came out. Then I remember that for him, the story – our story – is different, and add a quiet "please."

"Not gonna happen," he says in a low voice that seems to resonate through my body.

"Why not?" Yeah, a breathy whisper it is. "I told you before. You can tell me all you want about this great relationship we had, but that happened in your reality. It never happened in mine. I don't love you, I never did."

"Oh, you did," he argues, tilting his head and moving just a fraction closer. I shiver. "And I know you don't love me right now. Maybe you even hate me. But I'm not giving up, Elena, and you know why?"

"Why?" I echo, not even trying to feign indifference, because his lips are still too close, and I'm way too aware of his body inches from pressing into mine.

"Because I tried to let you go. Trust me, we both did." He doesn't sound suggestive now – he just sounds sad. "And it didn't end well. Not once."

_I care about you, which is why I have to let you go._

_I'm choosing to let you go._

_I love you, but I have to let go._

They feel like quotes from a long forgotten book coming back unexpectedly, or lines from a song I once heard, but now I know those are memories, each escaping my grasp before I can even try to hold on.

"Why did I love you, Damon?" I ask, because I genuinely want to understand. He shrugs with a slight smile, so unlike his usual lewd smirks.

"Well, I can't answer that question, Elena. You'll have to find out yourself."

"But how can I find out if I don't remember? If I only know the worst things about you? If I cannot imagine loving you?"

He winces, and my heart clenches painfully. I have to remind myself how much pain he's caused me, and that what I've just said was nothing but some harsh truth.

"I don't know, Elena," he says, raising a hand to caress my face. Despite myself, I don't push him away. "But I know that I'm the same person you loved, and you're the same person that loved me, so somehow, there must be a way."

I want to tell him I'm not eager to find that way, but his touch makes it hard to focus.

"Do you remember when I kissed you on the porch?" he asks.

"Yes. I thought it was inappropriate," I answer readily. Damon shakes his head.

"That's not what happened at all."

He leans in, and before I have a chance to stop him, his hands are on my face and his lips are on mine. He's not pushing, not demanding, just letting me get used to the sensation before I give in and kiss him back, doing everything in my power to keep it chaste. I'm so lost in him that I barely notice the moment when he starts pulling back and remind myself I'm not supposed to follow.

He looks at me, and I look at him, and we're frozen in time and space; we're the only people in the universe. Damon smiles, and I belatedly realize it went precisely like he wanted it to go.

"This is how it happened," he says quietly, and I close my eyes, listening to his voice. "I kissed you, and I knew we'd both feel guilty, but in that moment, I didn't care. And you responded. You were kind of dazed after that, maybe didn't even hear me say goodnight. When I got into the car, I looked at the porch, and you still stood there, touching your lips, like you couldn't believe what you'd just done. That, Elena, is how it went."

"But I don't know why," I say. I feel tears well up in my eyes, and I hate it, but this is too confusing, it's overwhelming. Ten minutes ago I was completely sure I could never love Damon Salvatore. Now, I don't know anything any more, and it kills me. For the first time, I start really wishing I could have my memories back.

"It's okay." His hands cup my face, his thumbs caressing my cheeks, – another unexpectedly tender gesture today. "I can wait, Elena. I've mastered patience, especially when it comes to you. If I have to wait again, so be it." He takes my hands in his, cradling them. "But I won't lose you."

_I can't lose you. You won't._

I almost give in, almost tell him about the dreams, because those are the only memories I have, and I'm not even sure they are real. But he breathes a quiet "Goodnight," and before I can notice, I'm alone in the room, utterly shaken and more confused than I've ever been.

* * *

><p><strong>Tell me what you thought, guys, and thanks for reading :)<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

Sunday is dragging slowly and miserably.

I've read an article about Sunday being the least happy day of the week. I'm not sure why people think so, but I'm pretty sure none of them said that the reason was a relationship they chose to forget because of the temporary death of their beloved, and the whole plan getting ruined because of their unexpected comeback.

I really want to spend the day with Bonnie, because I have a feeling she'll understand, but I don't think Jeremy is letting her out of his sight (or arms) anytime soon, and it's more of a girl talk. Caroline, as much as I love her, won't help me now. Her bluntness is good when I need somebody to push me to do something, but this is something I need to figure out myself.

I try to prepare for the test I have on Tuesday, but it's not distracting enough. I try watching TV, reading a New Adult romance Caroline gave me for my twentieth birthday, and it's only when I spend half an hour playing Flappy Bird that I realize something's really wrong with me today.

If I have to be honest with myself, maybe I should just call Damon.

Yesterday, he promised he wouldn't give up on me. And I know I was the one who wanted to wait, but now I'm not sure about that. All this time, he's been fighting to come back to the woman he loved, and instead, he got… well, this.

I don't have his number, but I could always ask Stefan. Why did I decide that my judgment now, with three years of wrong memories, is better than the judgment of Elena before the compulsion, the one who loved Damon?

The phone chimes, notifying me of a new text.

_ What are you doing? – D. _

I smile to myself, because it's a bit freaky that he somehow felt that I wanted to talk to him, but at the same time kind of cute. I add him to contacts and type a reply.

_Not much. Bored. You?_

Then, as an afterthought, I add:

_ How do you have my number?_

The reply comes so fast I wonder if he's typing at vampire speed.

_ Bored, too. From little bro. _

And, in a second:

_ I could come over and entertain you ;)_

I roll my eyes, but I still smile as I type the reply. Admittedly, I'm flirting with him, but I'm also genuinely curious.

_If everything was like before, what would we be doing?_

I'm trying to picture his face as he's reading my message. Would he be surprised? Intrigued? Would he smirk and form a plan to seduce me or would he just smile to himself?

_You don't need me to spell that one out for you._

I giggle nervously, because this is when it kinda hits me. I had sex with Damon. A lot, I guess. And while I don't remember any of it because of the compulsion, he obviously does. He's seen, touched every part of me, probably heard me scream his name, or something. God, this is embarrassing.

It's hard to come up with a response when I feel like hiding under a blanket, but I manage to do it.

_And if you're not here?_

I immediately regret asking the question, but it's too late.

_Easy. What are you wearing?_

Damn. Walked right into that one. I can feel this strangely happy smile on my face, and no matter what I do, it won't go away. Still, I should probably chastise him.

_Cut it out._

Did that sound annoyed? Did I make him think he'd crossed the line – which, yeah, but not so much that it would _really_ bother me. Feeling ridiculous for giving so much thought to the tone of a freaking text message, I send him a smiling emoticon. I get the reply just a few seconds later.

_ We could be watching a movie. Or making dinner. You'll be so lucky to rediscover my amazing pasta making skills._

After those dreams, it's all too easy to imagine Damon at the stove, or laughing with me at a stupid comedy we picked up because life's dramatic enough and we just need to have fun.

_One day, _I promise.

He doesn't reply after that, but somehow, I feel a lot better.

* * *

><p>I go to bed early, both wary and curious about what my subconscious throws at me today, but sleep doesn't come for a long, long time. When it finally does, the dreams are rather… erotic. Maybe it's because Damon kissed me yesterday, or maybe it's because of our texts, but I get flashes of tangled limbs and sweaty skin and me pulling at his hair and his hands parting my legs and cries of pleasure in which I hardly recognize my own voice.<p>

In the morning, I'm still tired and more than a little frustrated. I take a quick shower (which does nothing to improve my mood) and start the coffee maker. That's when I hear a quiet heartbeat in the hallway, which would be completely normal if it weren't for the fact that it's _vampire_ slow.

I open the door to find Damon sitting on the floor, his back against the wall. I clear my throat and he looks up at me from under his eyelashes, the sexy smirk he's wearing doing nothing to alleviate the consequences of my dream. I frown and cross my arms.

"What are you doing here? Trying to scare my neighbors?"

He stands up casually and stretches, the fitting T-shirt he's wearing riding up a little to reveal the smooth skin of his stomach. Is he doing it on purpose? Chances are, he actually is.

"Well," he drawls, and things deep within me stir at that low voice. "Since us staying away from each other never solved any problems, I figured it's a bad idea." He steps around me and walks into the room confidently, and I know I should be annoyed, but I'm more curious than anything.

"So, you're here," I say, closing the door. "What are you going to do now?"

He looks at me intently in a way that makes my throat dry. "I could think of a couple of things, but this place won't do. What about my place? Or somewhere more public?"

I narrow my eyes at him. "Excuse me?"

He laughs, and I'm fascinated for a moment. I've never seen Damon laugh. Well, I suppose I have, but can't remember it – which means everything feels like the first time even if it isn't.

"I was thinking about coffee and breakfast, Elena. Unless, of course, you had something else in mind."

I roll my eyes and shift uncomfortably. Not sure about my mind, but my body definitely has an agenda of its own today. And it's not like I have no control over myself, but I'm kind of wondering if he always had this effect on me anyway or if my body remembers him even when my mind can't. Maybe it's both.

He takes me to Ric's apartment, because that's where he crashed after coming back to life, he tells me. In my memories, Damon and Ric occasionally drank together, but I had no idea they were such great friends.

He starts the coffee maker and puts a mug with milk into the microwave to heat it. I'm watching him move around the kitchen with obvious ease, which kind of takes me by surprise. The Damon Salvatore I knew was hard to picture in the kitchen, but here he is, expertly whisking the milk, swirling the mug and tapping it on the counter before he adds the coffee, a dash of vanilla sugar, and delivers me a cappuccino that makes my taste buds explode.

"It's amazing," I confess, my eyes still closed, because yeah, it's that good.

"I know," he says. No modesty whatsoever. "Living with you for three months, I kinda figured out how you like your coffee."

I smile, because weird as it is, the idea calms me down. Hearing that I had myself brainwashed to forget most events of the last three years of my life was kind of scary. Hearing that I promised forever to the man I thought I'd vowed to hate was terrifying. The fact that he knows what coffee I drink? Yeah, that's information I can deal with.

"What do you like?" I ask, peeking at his cup.

"Coffee, black. But don't worry, you won't have to re-learn to make coffee for me. You always screwed it up anyway, so between the two of us, it's my job." He winks, and I chuckle, because that does sound like me.

We share a blood bag after that – Damon insists on pouring the blood into mugs, which is sort of ridiculous, but he claims it's "classier" that way. I don't know that anything related to drinking blood you get from a stolen plastic bag can be classy, but I don't argue. Maybe he's right. Maybe if I learn who he is, the good parts, too, I'll understand what it was that drew me in, that made me love him.

I consider what I've seen so far and decide I like it. I'm a little fascinated by his casual domesticity and even more – by the things he's telling me, things that somehow make the idea that sounded impossible two days ago seem infinitely more believable.

I stand up to put the empty mugs in the sink, feeling him watching me, and I'm suddenly taken back to one of my dreams, the one where he whispered my name and I forgot about everything in the universe that wasn't him.

I turn around slowly to look at him. "Damon, what happened in Denver?"

He tilts his head curiously. "Why?"

"I had this dream… about you. About us. In Denver. I'm wondering if it's true."

"Why do you trust me to tell you the truth?" he asks, and there's no bitterness in his voice. He just sounds tired.

"Well, if I loved you, I must have trusted you. Love without trust doesn't really work for a long time. I know that."

He smiles, at my explanation or at his memories, I'm not sure.

"Okay, I'll tell you the story, and you'll see if it's anything like what happened in your dream."

It is. It matches completely. As he tells me the real version of events, my dream, one of the few I remember in detail, plays in vivid colors before my eyes. I don't even need to imagine anything, because I still _feel_ his fingers grazing mine, his lips on my skin, his hands tracing every line and curve of my body, even though in Damon's words it just sounds "a bit hot and heavy."

"How did we ever stop?" I ask, and Damon smiles.

"Actually, Jeremy walked in on us."

"What if he hadn't?"

His eyes study my face, and he's licking his lips, and I have no idea what I'm going to do next.

"I don't know, Elena. I never asked you, because the whole thing didn't end well, what with me getting mad at you for screwing with my head, so later it didn't really make a good subject to discuss."

"But what do you think?" I insist. I don't know why I'm asking, or why this moment seems so important, since we lived together for months, so I'm pretty sure we engaged in a whole lot of sexual activities.

Damon steps closer, trapping me between his body and the counter, but it rather excites me than frightens.

"You want to know what I think? I think, Elena, that you wouldn't have stopped, and that's what scared you. That's what made you run away, straight into my brother's arms, _again_. Because you couldn't ignore this thing between us. Not any more. Though, of course, you have no idea what I'm talking about, so-"

I kiss him.

Maybe it's the memory, maybe it's my body taking over again, but at this particular moment, I don't care. I just need to get closer to him, so I slip my hands under his T-shirt to feel the skin of his back as he devours me, my dream paling in comparison with what is going on right now.

He picks me up and sets me on the counter so I can easily wrap my legs around his waist, and one of his hands slips under my blouse to feel me, too. I arch into him and he groans, the sound beautiful and primal. His lips burn my neck, move over my collarbone, and I pant, breathing his name.

Damon freezes suddenly, pulling away and stepping back until the only part of him that's touching me is his hand caressing my cheek. I'm a little surprised and a little hurt that he stopped me, even though it's probably for the better.

"Sorry," I whisper, though I don't think I actually am. "I don't know what's gotten into me."

He smiles, but it doesn't look entirely genuine. "Lust, Elena. It's called lust." He shakes his head. "That's not what I want from you. You don't know me at all, you have only the worst memories we had and one dream, and I don't want you to jump into this when you don't know anything, when it's all about sex, though we were so much more than-"

"It's not just one dream," I say, and he stops.

"What?"

"There were more dreams. In fact, for the past month, I had these dreams every night. Always about you. Mostly nothing substantial, just… flashes, but in those dreams, I remember being happy. I remember loving you."


	3. Chapter 3

_"There were more dreams. In fact, for the past month, I had these dreams every night. Always about you. Mostly nothing substantial, just… flashes, but in those dreams, I remember being happy. I remember loving you."_

* * *

><p>When he hears me say it, his lips tremble, and his eyes are so warm and scared at the same time that I feel an urge to give him a hug, which fights with the urge to throw caution to the wind and just kiss him again.<p>

That's what brings me back to my senses. This is not me. This is a serial killer standing in front of me, and even if he changed, and at some point in my life I knew it, right now I don't. To me, he's a mystery, a strange combination of a ruthless psychopath with no redeeming qualities that I remember and this caring, loving man who sits at my door and makes me coffee.

"Elena?" he says, but I'm already shaking my head.

"No, you're right. I don't know what I was thinking. I can't do this. I can't wrap my mind around it. Yeah, I know you're not this monster I thought you were, but it doesn't change anything. I don't think it _should_ change anything."

He steps back, his face pained, and I use all my self control not to follow.

"I'm sorry, Damon, but what you said is true. Yes, I know that you love me. You're sweet and charming, and I… I'm attracted to you, but it's not enough."

"I know. I pushed it. I'm sorry. I should have stopped you earlier, but it was just going so well that-"

"I get that," I say with a shaky smile, grasping his hand because I'm breaking his heart here. "And it's not that I don't want you around, I do." I nod to emphasize my words and he smiles slightly in response, though it comes out more like a grimace. "We can talk and hang out, and maybe I'll finally get your coffee right one day." That gets me a genuine smile, and I feel ridiculously giddy. "We'll figure it out. We need to focus on saving Ric and making things right, and in the meantime," I reach out and take his hand, squeezing it tightly, " we'll just see how it goes. Where it takes us. Okay?"

He pulls closer and for a moment I'm afraid he's going to kiss me, which would mean he didn't really understand what I was trying to say. I don't really know how he's going to react to any of the things I say or do, so I'm going by instinct here.

Instead of leaning in for a kiss, Damon presses his lips to my forehead – a soft, light touch that makes my eyes water.

"We'll survive this. We always survive," he muses, as if reciting a poem, and the words seem to echo in my chest. I step back, wiping at a stray tear.

"I need to go. I have classes." He nods, and I add hastily: "See you later?"

He smiles. "Yeah. I'll show up in your room unannounced sometime to piss you off."

I laugh and walk out of the kitchen. We're going to be okay.

* * *

><p>In the afternoon, I text Bonnie, and we meet in a diner on the campus.<p>

Jeremy shows up, too. Can't blame him. If I were reunited with the love of my life whom I believed to be gone forever, I wouldn't want to leave their side, too.

Oh. Right.

It's so strange seeing them together again. They look at each other with disturbingly blissful smiles on their faces, and at some point I start thinking they won't stop holding hands even to take the coffee mugs.

I smile, too, and Jeremy narrows his eyes suspiciously. "What?"

"You guys are so happy."

Bonnie's eyes immediately turn sympathetic. "Are you okay?"

My first instinct is to say that of course, I am. To change the subject, to ask Bonnie how _she _has been, because she saved us all and she suffered more than anyone. But she's my best friend. She'll see right through me.

"I don't know, Bonnie. It all frightens me."

"Honey, it's natural." She manages to extricate her hand from Jer's and moves to sit next to me. "You've had this whole part of your life altered in your mind, so it must be really hard to figure it out. Give it time."

"That's not the scary part," I admit. Bonnie looks at me in confusion while Jer suddenly looks really interested in his plate of fries. I assume he already regrets invading our girl talk. "The scary part is remembering what he's capable of and knowing that I loved him despite all that. And what's even crazier is that… I like him. I _know_ that he's a monster, and I still like him. We spent the morning together-" Bonnie lifts one eyebrow and I laugh. "He stopped by and invited me over for a coffee. Shocking as it is, I had fun. And well, I was totally into him."

I don't really want to mention that we made out in Ric's kitchen while my brother is sitting right here. I doubt he wants to know _anything_ about it.

"Maybe that's a good thing?" asks Bonnie. "As far as we know, compulsion doesn't really work with feelings. It may make you forget things that happened, change your attitude for some time, but deep-rooted feelings stay, no matter what."

"It's true, Lena," Jeremy chips in, surprisingly. I thought he wasn't listening. "You asked Ric to make you forget that you ever loved Damon. He didn't compel you to _stop_ loving him. You just can't remember it right now."

"It's actually the other way round. I don't think I really feel that great love everyone's talking about, but I remember feeling it. I dream about it. I've been having these really vivid dreams about Damon and me. Snippets of our past. Waking up with him, cooking with him, Denver…" Jeremy lets out a heavy sigh at the word. "In those dreams, I feel it all, and when I wake up, it's terrible."

"Wait, I'm not following," says Jer. "What's terrible? I mean, if you remember at least some things and you like him, and he's finally back here, what's the problem? Go for it."

I shake my head at his amazingly careless attitude.

"The problem is that I don't know why! I don't know how I can feel that! No matter how good he may be now, he's a killer. He murdered people for fun. He killed _you_ once."

Jeremy shrugs like we're discussing what cereal he likes for breakfast.

"So did you. And a bunch of other people. I got over it. You did, too, just FYI."

"So… you don't hate him?" I specify just in case, and Jeremy freaking _laughs._

"Man, Damon would so love this talk. No, I don't hate him. We're friends. I actually lived in the boarding house with you two, which you probably don't remember. And yeah, the guy has temper issues, but believe me, catching you making out with him all the time bothered me a _lot _more."

I chuckle at that. My poor brother.

"I'm sorry, Jer. I'll try not to put you through that ordeal."

He nods in an exaggerated manner which says he doesn't believe me at all.

Bonnie squeezes my wrist reassuringly. "Don't overthink it. Do what's best for you. If you need some time to figure things out, take it. Damon will understand. He always does."


	4. Chapter 4

I go to my dorm room in the evening, suddenly nervous. I don't know if I'm more afraid that Damon will be there or that he won't. Just in case, I pull out a mirror and smooth my hair, refresh the lip gloss and check if the eyeliner still looks fine.

This is just ridiculous.

I go into the room and look around me carefully, tapping into vampire senses. After half a minute of careful inspection, it's obvious Damon isn't here. I let out a sigh without meaning to, trying my hardest to ignore a sharp pang of disappointment resonating in my stomach.

It's not like I actually enjoy watching him go out of his way to get me to like him, right? And it's not like he owes it to me to come here… What the hell, I should actually be _worried_ about his promise to violate my privacy, not encourage it and, well, obsess over it like I'm doing now.

I focus on mundane things. Drink some blood and get into the shower. When I get out, I wrap a towel around myself, brush my teeth and run my fingers through my hair, smoothing it a little. Then I go back into the room, loosening the towel on my way.

"Don't stop on my account."

I stifle a shriek and grasp the towel before it can fall. Of course this is when he would show up, lying on my bed, fully clothed _and_ wearing shoes like he has not a care in the world. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Damon rolls his eyes. "Hanging out. Seriously though, you should get dressed. I'll turn away. I'll even go to the bathroom if you want. Never mind I've seen everything. Actually, not only _seen_…"

My face feels like it's on fire, but I manage to cross my arms and keep the towel in place. "You promised you wouldn't push."

He grows serious. "Yeah, I know. Sorry." He rolls over and clamps one hand over his eyes. "Your virtue is safe."

I'm not sure how much I can trust him to stay that way, but well, he has a point. It's not like he's never seen me naked. Listening for any signs of movement from him, I drop the towel and put on the most boring PJs I own, because I don't want Damon to get any ideas. They're still pretty revealing, though, and it's hard to miss how his eyes rake over my body when I finally give him permission to face me again.

I get under the covers and turn to him, and he settles more comfortably on top of the covers, kicking off the shoes. Guess he assumed I'm letting him stay – which I'm really not sure about, but well, I haven't kicked him out yet, and I did say I wanted to spend time with him.

He just lies there quietly, his gaze never leaving me, and I have to put considerable effort into not fidgeting. Maybe he did that when we were together, and I was fine with just looking at each other and not saying a word, but now, the silence feels kind of awkward. To me, at least.

"So… how was your day?" I ask lamely, because yeah, that's the best I can come up with.

He gives a lazy half-shrug. "Unexciting. I mean, my morning was kinda awesome." He winks. "But then I just buried myself in ancient witch books Stefan collected to see how we can bring Ric to life. Or undead…ness. Whichever."

I perk up at that, propping my head on my hand, even though I know it'll kill my wrist. "Really? What did you find?"

He shakes his head, wincing slightly. "Nothing yet. I think we've read every magic book in the freaking state. But there's this library in Athens that Bonnie heard of, so I'll go there tomorrow and check it out."

"Athens? In Greece?"

"No, Athens, Georgia," he specifies with a smirk. "Supposedly, there should be some rare magic books."

"I'll go with you," I say. "It's enough that I was useless while everyone else worked on saving you, I can't do nothing when Ric needs help."

Damon smiles slightly, and I narrow my eyes. "What?"

"Nothing, it's just… a road trip to Georgia brings back some memories." I frown, because that does sound familiar, but I can't figure out why. "You don't remember, do you?" asks Damon and winces when I shake my head. "Yeah, didn't think so."

"So tell me!" I reach out with my free hand and grab his arm. "Damon, I may not remember it, but I do want to know."

So he does. He tells me about what he refers to as "our first road trip," saving me after a car crash and "kidnapping" me – he makes sure to use air quotes. Afterwards, apparently, I was a major pain in the ass, then managed to get drunk and save his life. Seems like an eventful day.

"Why didn't you just take me home? Because you wanted to unnerve Stefan?" I ask, and he smiles mischievously, wiggling his eyebrows.

"That, too. But also because I thought it might turn out kinda fun. I'd suspected you couldn't be as righteous and uptight as you wanted to look all the time. And well, you didn't disappoint."

I roll my eyes at the dubious compliment, but smile anyway. "Is that what it took us to fall in love?"

I don't miss his sharp intake of breath at the word as he shakes his head. "No. You were still in the unicorns-and-rainbows phase with Stefan, and I was still hung up on Katherine like an idiot."

"That part I remember."

"Too bad. Not the best time of my life."

I scoot a fraction closer. "What is the best time of your life?"

His gaze drifts lower, lingering at my lips. "Is it too cheesy if I say it's the time when we were together?"

I smile. "That's… nice to hear."

Damon keeps looking at me with this undivided attention, like I'm the only thing in his world. "After you turned, pretty soon you had to move into the boarding house. Jeremy became a vampire hunter and you couldn't live at home any more, since he kinda wanted to kill you. Do you remember that?"

I think about it. "Vaguely. I remember it was kind of awkward with Stefan, because we'd just broken up, but I don't remember what you were doing."

He smiles bemusedly. "Well… Will it be too much if I say you moved into my room? Also known as our room."

I should have expected that, because I have been told that we got together after I turned and broke up with Stefan, but now that he puts it that way, I realize it was almost two years ago.

It's been so long, and that makes it scarier. My memories about the time before that have been changed, too, but cutting all the moments with Damon after we got together… well, that means I kind of lost the last two years of my life.

"How did that happen?" I ask, trying to sound teasing and carefree, though I really, _really_ want to know. He smiles and closes his eyes.

"When you came to the boarding house that night, Stefan left." I nod, because I remember that part. "I was there, though. We talked about Jeremy, about you, had some bourbon, reminisced a bit."

"Like now?"

He nods with a smile. "Yeah, kind of. Then we danced. We've always loved dancing together. At some point, we kissed… and we didn't stop."

He opens his eyes again, and I'm startled by their intensity. It feels like he's looking right into me, like he can see all my secrets at once. Part of me wants to run, but an even bigger part doesn't want to go anywhere.

Damon reaches out and strokes my cheek with his fingers. "God, I really want to kiss you now."

I should remind him about the whole not pushing me thing and kick him out, but instead, something completely different happens without my permission.

"So do it."

He hesitates just a little before moving closer, and I close my eyes as I feel his breath on my skin. He's taking it slowly, his lips only brushing against mine at first, soft and unsure, but still sending sparks through my body. I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him closer as I open my mouth over his.

And he stops.

"Damon-"

He presses his forehead against mine, breathing uneven. "I think going any further would officially count as pushing you."

He's right. I hate it, but he is.

"I think we'll call it a night. I'll show up sometime tomorrow and try to scare you."

I smile, and he presses a light kiss against my temple before disappearing from the window. Just like that, I'm all alone with the whirlwind of my thoughts and one word that I wanted to say, that I should have said.

Stay.


	5. Chapter 5

I call Damon first thing in the morning. I'm still in bed, half asleep, but I don't want him to go to Athens without me. The night was uneventful and dreamless – which, surprisingly, is disappointing.

"Morning, sunshine," he says cheerfully, and I smile at the endearment.

"Hi. Where are you?" I pause, frowning. "You're not sitting at my door again, are you?"

He chuckles. "No, sorry, no surprise visits planned yet. I've been talking to Stefan, and he's awfully unwilling to go to Athens with us."

That last part makes me feel all warm and giddy, because he doesn't try to keep me out of the loop. I can actually try to help him save Ric.

"That's strange," I say instead. "So… it's just the two of us?"

"Looks like it. Unless you have objections to us spending some quality time together."

"Quality time? I thought we would be looking through ancient witch books."

He huffs. "Ouch. You suggest that my company is not good enough to make it quality time? I'm hurt."

I laugh and shake my head even though he can't see it. "When are we meeting?"

"In a while. Don't go anywhere."

When I hang up, I feel strangely nervous and excited. I jump off the bed and take a shower, humming as I wash my hair and pick the chocolate-scented body wash. I normally only use it when I need some serious cheering up, but today, it just feels like a good idea.

I go through my morning routine as slowly as I can, because it seems like the moment I stop pacing myself, I'll start feeling anxious and jumpy all over again. I clasp the bra and find a comfy pair of jeans. When I bend to the bottom drawer to get a pair of socks, I feel a chill move across my skin and a quiet screech of the window as it opens. A moment later, an arm sneaks around my waist, and if I weren't a vampire, I would probably freak out.

"Well, you tried," I say, straightening myself, hopelessly trying to sound casual. His fingers dance on my waist lightly, and I shiver, exhaling way too loudly. I try to turn around, but he holds me in place and leans in, nuzzling my shoulder and up the length of my neck. I'm pretty sure I stop breathing altogether.

"God, you smell incredible." He inhales deeply and plants a butterfly kiss on the side of my neck. "How'd you guess this chocolaty thingy is my favorite?" With every word, his breath caresses my skin, and I'm moments away from leaning on him.

"Lucky guess?" I offer, happy that my voice didn't tremble, at least.

He chuckles and steps away, leaving me significantly warmer than I should be in October wearing a bra. I take a deep breath, because what just happened is probably no big deal in the scope of our relationship, and he's already seen me in a bra, and without one, too, I suppose. Still, I dare to face him only when I've found a shirt in the closet and put it on. He's watching me intently, which doesn't help me calm down at all. I lick my lips nervously, and his eyes gleam dangerously.

Oh my God, this trip is going to kill me.

He bites his lip and smiles, clearly enjoying my frustration. "We have to leave as soon as we can. The drive is seven hours."

Seven hours alone with Damon in the car. Awesome.

"I'll just get my stuff."

He starts saying that he could help me pick the change of underwear, but I roll my eyes and push him out of the door. I still hear him laughing as I get a bag and pack PJs, a shirt and the first underwear I come across in the drawer. I put on a jacket, take the bag and brace myself.

This is going to be interesting.

* * *

><p>I lock the door and go outside to find Damon next to a shiny black car I don't recognize.<p>

"It's temporary," he explains. "Sadly, my Camaro still needs some work, which is a shame, since that car has a _lot_ of memories."

He wiggles his eyebrows for emphasis, and I look away, unsure how to react to Damon's casual innuendo. He smirks and opens the door for me, the gesture easy and natural.

Seven. Hours.

Damon gets into the car, too, and starts the engine. "You can sleep if you want," he says, but I shake my head.

"No, it's fine. I think we need to talk. You could fill me in on all the stuff I missed."

He smiles wistfully. "Yeah, I guess I could. But it won't be the same, will it? You won't know what you felt, or why you felt it. You will hear only my side of the story."

"But your side of the story is important, too," I argue. "Damon, is there anyone who can tell me more about our life together than you?"

This time he offers a real, happy smile, and I'm mesmerized for a moment.

"Do you remember Tessa, also known as Qetsiyah? The witch who told us that you and Stefan had this supernatural doppelganger bond?"

"Yeah." I'm sure I don't remember the whole story correctly, but I know that part.

"Once she told me that you and I didn't stand a chance against destiny, against the universe. And I told you that, and you frowned in this really adorable way and asked, 'What does she know about us?' And you know, you were right. She didn't. No one did… or does. At the end of the day, it was just you and me."

He's watching the road, so he doesn't look at me, but I can watch him all I want and enjoy the look on his face every time he talks about our relationship. All sadness and nostalgia disappear from it, leaving only this almost reverent expression, full of warmth and wonder.

"That night when we danced and kissed, and never stopped… what happened after that?"

"Well, you fell asleep at some point. I went downstairs to clean up, because you broke a lamp in the parlor." I flush, and he chuckles. "In the morning, you woke up first, and you were late for school… so we only had sex once more."

I cough uncomfortably, and he glances at me, eyebrow raised. "Elena, if we're going to talk about us, you need to get over the embarrassment. We had sex. A lot. It was amazing. It wasn't why we fell in love with each other, but, well, didn't hurt." He does his eye thing, which I remember I found annoying, but it has a strange effect on me now. "Anyway, after you went to school, Stefan showed up and told me about the sire bond, and well, that effectively ruined everything."

"Why?" That part is really vague in my mind. I just remember hating the idea of being controlled by him, but I don't think he actually did anything to me, other than screwing up my blood diet and then fixing it.

"Well, because I couldn't trust that your feelings for me were real and not because of the damn bond. Everything between us has to be real, Elena. Otherwise it's not worth it."

I inhale sharply, because the way he says it somehow makes _us _more important. Monumental. Damon mistakes my awe for anxiety and reaches out to take my hand, smiling reassuringly.

"But we got through it. We survived."

"Before I screwed up and lost all that," I say bitterly, and he sighs.

"We're together now, aren't we?"

I bite my lip, because it doesn't seem like he's talking about us sitting in the same car. Maybe I'm reading too much into this, but what _are_ we to each other, precisely? The girl he loves who erased him from her memory after he died. The guy I loved whom I can't remember loving. I don't think there's even a definition for this relationship.

"Elena?"

"You know," I start, watching him to gauge his reaction, "it's kind of like we're dating. I mean, the whole situation is really strange, but we spend time together while I try to figure out what I feel and if things work between us, so…"

He smiles. "Sounds like dating to me."

"Does that work for you?" I ask, and he lets go of my hand to caress my hair instead.

"Elena, as long as I have you in my life, it works. Always."


End file.
